Who lived in the lonely tower? (The Dawntreader) |
*Published in 2009 print issue of The Dawntreader magazine. The Lonely Tower Out walking in the woods one day, I chanced upon a shady glen. Though far from any road it lay, A sign was scrawled in shaky pen. “One room to rent, upstairs” it said. But though I looked, I saw no trace Of house or hostel, shack or shed, But just that silent, empty place. Then through the leafy boughs, a peek, A stony tower, old and vast. Yet though it seemed almost antique, Its roof still stood, its walls held fast. I stared in awe at ancient stones Which some late mighty hand had hewn And piled high, with aches and moans, Apart from all the world, immune. Around the base, I sought to find An entrance to this mystery. But though I looked in front, behind, No way to enter could I see. Though twice around the base I went, There was no crack or hint of door. And looking up at the ascent I saw no windows to explore. Then, at the very top, I spied An opening beneath the roof. Though naught but bird could get inside, I glimpsed a face and jagged tooth. About to call, I gasped instead, A sight had stopped me in my tracks. There, many feet above my head, A golden hair caught in the cracks. As fast as mighty steeds may race When called to war or gallant quest, Much faster was my ragged pace; My heart was bursting in my chest. Perhaps my visions filled with doom Were not, in truth, completely fair, But I would never rent the room Where fair Rapunzel combed her hair. |